Daisy Chains
by Horrorxxxgirl
Summary: Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, what if Chop-Top had a chainsaw wielding girl to call his own? This contains spoilers as I am taking some dialogue used in the film.
1. Chapter 1

iOn the afternoon of August 18, 1973, five young people in a Volkswagen van ran out of gas on a farm road in Souther Texas. Four of them were never seen again. The next morning the one survivor, Sally Hardesty-Enright, was picked up on a roadside. Blood-caked and screaming murder.

Sally said she had broken out of a window in Hell.

The girl babbled a mad tale: a cannibal family in an isolated farmhouse...chainsawed fingers and bones...her brother, her friends hacked up for barbeque...chairs made of human skeletons...then she sank into catatonia.

Texas lawmen mounted a month-long manhunt, but could not locate the macabre farmhouse. They could find no killers and no victims. No facts; no crime.

Officially, on the records, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre never happened...

But during the last 13 years, over and over again reports of bizarre, grisly, chainsaw mass-murders have persisted all across the state of Texas. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre has not stopped. It haunts Texas.

It seems to have no end./i

A blonde haired girl leaned against a row of rusted mailboxes alongside a Texas road headed for Dallas. She rolled a piece of wheat between her teeth. Her long blonde hair was swept into two braids. At the end of both were two daises. She quickly peered into her shoulder bag, a big light blue peace sign on the front, to make sure the record store bag was still snuggled safely within the confines. It was. She just worried like her big sister, Sally Verrill.

But Sally's luck was always in and you spelled that kind of luck B-A-D. She shook her head. Why was it she could always remember Sally's hick husband's voice? His luck was all bad unless it came to girls. No matter, in the distance, she saw a car roll near. She stuck her thumb out. Instead of leaving her in the dust or picking her up, the passenger put his gun out the window.

Before it could even register in her inbred mind what was happening, he shot the gun. She fell to the ground with a yelp as the mailbox her arm had been on, smoldered. She stood back up with a snort and ripped her gingham blouse open. Her two middle fingers upturned to the sky. "Y'all can kiss a dog's titties for all I care!" she spat as the truck was slowly eaten up by the horizon.

A fast paced country song on his old radio just ended. It was time to hear her angel like voice, maybe it was also time to rub one out. Not like his wife was here or anything yet. "Red River Rock n Roll request line! This is Stretch!" Ah! G-d! Her voice!

"Hey, Stretch! It's Rick," said the voice.

"Rick the Prick!" cried a second shrill voice. That ruined it.

"Play us a song that we can imagine you bouncing your titties too!" howled Rick. He rolled his eyes and zipped his pants up. Women got no respect.

"Honey, you'll be imagining me bouncing my jugs around no matter what song I play," sighed Stretch. Sad but true. "Now come on, hang up fellas. You're tyin' up the line."

He passed some smart lookin' college car. Pffft. His old pick up truck could mow their asses down in three seconds flat. His wife counted. "Let's play a little game of chicken with old McDonald!"

"What dumb fuck's man!" he sneered as he turned off the radio. The car going the other way, pulled into his lane, coming right at him. Oh! These were those little jerk offs! He fishtailed into the fields.

"Hang up!" cried Stretch. She gave the man in the room behind the glass the cut off signal. A hand going across her neck. "LG!"

"I'm tryin' darlin!" he sneered.


	2. Chainsaws

Stretch's eyes were filled with venom and staring daggers at LG. A thick, curly haired man. "Don't call me, darlin', damnit!" she hissed, holding the phone to her shoulder as if Stretch were holding a baby.

He had managed to loose their call but wouldn't give her the time of day, even into the night. LG had a very obvious thing for Stretch, anyone could see that but she was a darling. Stretch didn't have to be so poisonous about it. A silly redneck song was no being pumped into hundreds of radios across Texas and Oklahoma. He rolled his eyes. Probably picked this song because LG lived in a single wide and drank beer.

The song came to end and she plugged herself back in. "Yow! It's 8:11 on this humid Friday night! I know there ain't no one listening cause y'alls are gettin' lucky! But here's a shot of red hot rock n' roll for ya anyway!" announced Stretch before the telephone sang. She swooped up the telephone and answered. Stretch's face grew grim.

"Remember us? Rick the Prick and Ricky!" said a very familiar voice. Fuck. Them again. And he was still avoiding her. Shit.

"Hang it up, lame-o and call your mother!" Stretch sneered. She didn't give shits if she were still on the air or not.

"No seriously! Ricky wants to request a song! Bright Lights, Big Titties," chuckled Rick the Prick. How clever he was.

"Wrong! I don't wanna hear it, I wanna sees it!" laughed Ricky's shrill voice. "Bright lights, big titties! Whooo-ahhhhhh!"

LG watched as Stretch struggled with the phone call. He felt bad. That was not the way to treat the one you love, even if she did treat LG like crap. He sat down and tried everything he could. The only thing LG managed to do was turn the phone onto the speakers.

Rick the Prick and Ricky drove onto a bridge when that blue pick-up truck they had played chicken with turned on it's brights. It sat in the other lane, facing them. It wasn't moving. The driver honked the horn and blocked their way across the bridge. "What the fuck?" said Ricky, fear coming into his voice.

Rick the Prick looked into the truck the best he could. He saw four forms in the front seat. Two large and two smaller ones between the two larger forms. "Are you crazy!?" he screamed. "Back up pig fucker!"

The truck did, but traveled alongside the two college boys, backwards. LG and Stretch could hear all of this. "They need to hang up," he said.

"What I'm about to do, do not copy and stay in the cab with daddy!" hissed the blonde woman. She handed a bundle to one of the smaller forms. "You hold your little sister, Lester. You're the only responsible one."

The driver watched his wife slink to the floor of the cab and bring up a long bladed chainsaw. "Be careful, Daisy," he said to her before kissing her. Making the two smaller forms, Lester and his twin brother, Bubba, stick out their tongues and gag. "Be happy your mama ain't daddy's sister."

Daisy escaped the cab and knocked on the top. "You ready, Bubba?" she called out, the wind whipping her braided hair all around.

"Sure am, mama!" chuckled the little boy in the cab.

The driver caught the back of his overalls. "Not you Bubba, uncle Bubba," he sneered.

Bubba raised up in the pick-up bed, tearing the boys attention away from Daisy. The hulking man known as Bubba hid behind the corpse of his older brother, Nubbins. "What the Hell is that!?" screamed Rick the Prick.

"Is it a geek!?" screamed Ricky. "What is that!?"

Bubba started up his saw and that was Daisy's cue to jump onto their car and start her saw up.

She stared at LG. He stared at Stretch. The sounds of chainsaws rang throughout the radio station.


End file.
